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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083434">It Doesn't Work Like That</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottonyharrison/pseuds/nottonyharrison'>nottonyharrison</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Duty and Related Stories [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Communication Failure, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Everyone Needs A Hug, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Frottage, Hand Jobs, In Vino Veritas, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, Post-Umbara Arc (Star Wars), Rough Kissing, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Whump, but like the human is the alien, but you know, look they don't fuck but at the same time this is very much not healthy behavior, non consensual force shenanigans, not a very happy ending, they're both underage let's not be disingenuous here, vague xeno</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:08:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,748</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29083434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottonyharrison/pseuds/nottonyharrison</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Umbara. After Krell. After Hardcase and Waxer and the reminder none of them are worth anything more than canon fodder and tools of the Republic. After all of this, Ahsoka and Rex find comfort in a bottle, then one another.</p><p>Set in the Of Duty 'verse however stands independently.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Duty and Related Stories [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It Doesn't Work Like That</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a spinoff from my post Order 66 multi-chap <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28106355/chapters/68864217">Of Duty</a>. Like that story, I'm not really holding anything back here. Please take note of the tags, if it's not up your alley the back button's right there. This is Not Healthy™ I mean if I read those tags I probably wouldn't have clicked on this fic, just sayin'</p><p>Basically, this fic is not safe for human consumption. Oh also it's unbetaed because I have zero composure and finished this at like 1am on a Sunday.</p><p>I love comments! Kudos are a pat on the shoulder but comments are FOOD. My <a href="http://nottonyharrison.tumblr.com/ask">askbox is open</a> for anything you don't feel comfortable sharing here ❤️</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ahsoka is drunk. Dee Arr You En Kay <em> Drunk </em>. Not in that good happy, loose, sexy kind of way that she has absolutely zero personal experience with but witnessed on General Kenobi more than once. Nah, in that…</p><p>General Kenobi. Sexy.</p><p>She shakes her head and winces. It’s like her brain is sloshing about in there.</p><p>But back to the point. Drunk. Fucking wasted. Shitfaced. Not in a happy way. In the sitting on the vacc tube, wallowing in self pity, hands in face wait… no face in hands. Face in hands, that’s better. In the sitting on the toilet hands in face<em> -- </em></p><p>Fuck. <em> Face in hands </em>kind of way.</p><p>It’s not really <em> self </em> pity though, right? It’s utter devastation that doesn’t really have a lot to do with Ahsoka really, outside of her not being there when they needed her.</p><p>So self flagellation, maybe. Yeah that’s it. If she’d been there then she could have what? Gone to bat for them against Krell?</p><p>Yeah, right.</p><p>There’s not a lot of noise from the rec room next door. The mood had been solemn ever since the boys had rolled off the back of the troop carriers, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched in a way she hadn’t seen en masse before. Then came the debrief.</p><p>She had to give him credit, Rex had held it together until after the investigation panel had dismissed him. She hadn’t been allowed in the room, but the aftermath in the hallway had been messy. His expression had gone from stoic and measured to wrecked in an instant, and it wasn’t until he’d kicked the wall and tossed his helmet down the hallway that she’d even realised Umbara had been more than a medium sized kark-up.</p><p>Definitely not just a blip on the map of intergalactic conflict. No, a total kriffing clusterfuck that she’d learned a few hours later ended in the execution of Pong Krell at the hands of a rookie trooper whose name she hadn’t known and whom she wouldn't have recognized in a line up.</p><p>Ahsoka grabs a couple of sheets of paper out of the dispenser and focuses on trying to pee out some of the gutrot she’d imbibed. Fives hadn’t held any back, the full cache of worryingly cloudy moonshine had been laid out on the table as he told the tale of him and Hardcase learning to fly the Umbaran ships, right up until the point when he’d stopped, the final glass filled, and unsaid thoughts on his lips as he opened and closed his mouth.</p><p>Hardcase hadn’t come back. She didn’t need Fives to tell her how that story ended. It ended the same way as Echo. <em> Oh, Echo. </em></p><p>There’s a loud banging on the cubicle door, and a thud.</p><p>“Yeah yeah hold your kriffing nuna’s ‘m done,” she says. There’s a scraping noise, and the shadow of two legs on the other side of the durasteel becomes a plastoid ass. Ahsoka finally relaxes enough for a steady stream to hit the bowl, wipes off, and tugs up her legging as she stands.</p><p>There’s a clatter as she pulls open the door, and from the sound of it the trooper just manages to catch himself before the door slams into the partition. Rex looks up at her with eyes that show a depth of emotion he’s only ever hinted at.</p><p>Things had been weird between them all night. She’d thought he was angry at her for not being there, in amongst it fighting for their right to be more than just numbers, but now with him half lying on the floor, in only the bottom part out of his armor, and looking up at her like she’s the only thing between his mouth and a blaster she understands.</p><p>Nah, it’s just the booze. Rex likes her, sure, but their relationship doesn’t exactly have the emotional depth of…</p><p>Of whose?</p><p>Him and Anakin? Nah, that didn’t go past the professional, Anakin might make noises about seeing the clones as more than just soldiers, but his actions don’t always support the rhetoric. Her and Master Plo? They’re close, sure but she’s under no illusions Plo isn’t going to take the opportunity to go full dad on her at a moment’s notice. Her and Rex though… it’s--</p><p>She slides down the partition, and props her legs up on the open door. It bangs against the other side of the stall, and she presses with her feet until it stays still. One foot slips, but she manages to catch it before she loses her balance.</p><p>Rex twists and puts a hand on her leg, steadying it.</p><p>“You don’ okay there?” she asks. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the door and wincing as he knocks his skull against a hinge.</p><p>“I should have done more.”</p><p>Ahsoka drops her feet and shuffles around until she’s against the other side of the stall. Their shoulders bump together, and she wraps an arm under his chin so her hand can rest on his scalp, the short soft hair buried between her fingers. It’s been a couple of weeks since he’s been able to do much with it, and the black roots are starting to show through. Not that she can focus on it well, her right eye is doing most of the work at the moment.</p><p>She settles heavier against him and speaks slowly and carefully. “You did what you could. Nobody’s holding it against you.”</p><p>Rex makes a noise that’s half way between a sob and a breath, and she tightens her grip. The handle to the main fresher door rattles, and the sound of a body crashes against it.</p><p>“Hey, what the fuck?”</p><p>“Not now, Fives,” they both reply. Ahsoka lets her mouth twist into a wry smile, and Rex lets out a huff. There’s a grumble from the corridor, and something that sounds like <em> about kriffing time. </em></p><p>Ahsoka’s heart leaps, then her brain engages and she screws up her face. “Wah’se talkin’ about?”</p><p>Rex drops his head to her shoulder and pushes his head harder into her hand. “‘S a betting pool,” he replies.</p><p>“About <em> us? </em>”</p><p>“Yeah, Hardcase has--” he catches himself”--szzd this insane theory you have a crush on me.”</p><p>Her pulse pounds, and she takes a measured breath. “You’re twelve.” But also Hardcase, <em> fuck. </em></p><p>His responding short bark of a laugh doesn’t have much humor in it. “Yeah, it doesn’t work like that.”</p><p>His hair tickles her headtails, and a shiver runs down the auricular nerve right up to the tip of her montrals, and down her spine. She changes the subject. “How ‘bout you?”</p><p>Rex tilts his head up. He tenses and his eyes meet hers, curious. “Me what?”</p><p>“You gonna be okay?”</p><p>He sighs. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.”</p><p>It’s quiet for a while. Nothing but the hum of soft voices from the rec room, and the occasional dull whirr or beep from a maintenance droid.  Ahsoka’s head isn’t feeling much clearer, the last glass of locker hooch is hitting hard, and every time she closes her eyes it’s like the stall is spinning.</p><p>“It should have been me, not the kid,” he whispers, eyes back on the floor, and her heart breaks.</p><p>“I thought you said you’re fine.”</p><p>“I said I’ll <em> be </em>fine.” He waves his hand before wriggling and tugging at his utility belt. “I’m drunk, leave me alone.”</p><p>Ahsoka turns her head and presses her lips to his hair. It smells like chlorine and GAR issue shampoo. He hums, and wraps the arm that isn’t trapped between her side and the durasteel of the fresher stall around her waist.</p><p>“Hey, Ahsoka?”</p><p>She strokes her hand down his head, until she’s scratching at his two day old stubble. “Mmmm?”</p><p>“You ever think about what happens after… all this?” It ends in a mumble, barely audible over the knocking of a droid against the base of the fresher door.</p><p>“I dunno, I guess I go back to the temple? You?”</p><p>There’s a heavy pause, and it's almost like he’s trying to absorb himself into the door of the stall. “‘M not a person.”</p><p>“Don’t be stupid.” she says.</p><p>“No, like I’m not... classified as a person.” </p><p>Deathly silence. It seems to go on forever, and it’s not until Ahsoka’s eyes drift shut and an accidental brush against Rex’s emotions make lights flash beneath her eyelids that there’s a sound. It’s a deep sigh, she’s not sure which of them made it. She thinks she might have drafted off for a bit. Inappropriate.</p><p>She doesn’t know what makes her do it. She doesn’t know....</p><p>
  <em> Kriff </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It doesn’t work like that </em>
</p><p>It doesn’t work like that? Who cares because this is wrong.this is so wrong. And her hands are bracketing his face, and her forehead is resting against his, and he’s looking at her like she hung the galaxy in the sky outside a viewport and <em> fuck </em> what in the seven forms is she doing? <em> What is she doing? </em></p><p>She’s kissing him, is what she’s doing. It’s not some deep yearning thing, like she’s trying to crawl inside him or anything. It’s not much more than a gentle caress, not much more than she would give a close friend at the right time. She’s not sure if it’s the booze or the situation or the fact it’s Rex that gives it some kind of weird intimacy that makes her heart pound in her lekku, and her breath hitch.</p><p>“Kriff, Rex I’m sorry I really shouldn’tve done that.” She should pull away, take her forehead off his and stop his sticky sweet breath from brushing her lips. She really should…</p><p>She really should.</p><p>Not be kissing him again.</p><p>
  <em> Fuck. </em>
</p><p>No wait, he’s kissing her. He’s kissing her and pulling her into his lap and his hands are on her hips, and her fingers are scrunched into his short hair, and oh <em> force </em> did he just bite her?</p><p>It’s sloppy. Not like, in a bad way. In a way that makes her stomach twist and turn like a sand worm losing its everloving shit in a pile of fine Tatooine dust. Oh <em> fuck </em> yes it’s defintely not a bad way, it’s a very very good way that <em> ugh </em>…</p><p>Do you ever have that moment where  you’re doing something but your mind wanders? Because as soon as Rex pushes his hands under her the hem of her battle dress, and tugs on the waistband of her leggings her mind starts doing that. It’s a bad time, but that’s what’s happening because she can sense his storm of emotions and even though she can feel the immediate <em> want want want </em> there’s also this deep rooted hatred that isn’t directed at her or anyone other than himself.</p><p>So she presses harder, opens her mouth and breathes when he breathes, strokes a hand down his cheek until her thumb is pressing into his jaw and he’s gasping into her mouth, rolls her hip against his codpiece until he's fumbling with the maglocs and tossing it away into a forgotten corner of the room.</p><p>The light’s too bright, and his armor is too hard and she’s way too drunk to be doing this but honestly would she be doing it if she wasn’t totally shitfaced? Would she want to do it?</p><p>She doesn’t want to think about the answer to that, because even if it’s yes, would Rex say the same? Maybe he would, because he’s pulling on her leggings until she’s pressed hard against him, and he’s pushing his crotch roughly up into hers, rolling his hips and biting down on her lip.</p><p>Force, is that his dick?</p><p>It’s not like she’s unaware of human penises, she has access to the holonet and grew up in the Jedi temple where curiosity was a given, but it didn’t prepare her for <em> that. </em> It’s thick and long and almost harder than the plastoid he’d just tossed away with such carelessness, and it makes her moan into his mouth. Would it even fit? She’d done her research but the results had been inconclusive, all about the varying length and girth of human men, and the genetic incompatibility of the togruta genome, rather than whether or not anything… fit. But then also why is she thinking about science when his teeth are tugging on her lower lip? And his huge, warm hands are sliding under the tight fabric covering her ass.</p><p>And oh <em> shit </em> his finger is pressing against that very specific spot behind her tooka that sets her off like a fucking carbonite missile.</p><p>She wrenches her mouth away from his. “Oh, kriffing hells unhh.”</p><p>She doesn’t mean to, she would swear on it, but she slams his head back into the durasteel door, trapping her knuckles between it and his skull in a burst of pain before she slides her mouth back against his, open and breathy and <em> oh he’s so warm and soft in all the right places like his lips oh-- </em></p><p>And again, she doesn’t mean to, but her fingers are on the zipper of that flap a the front of his blacks, and she’s tugging his dick out until the fingers of her free hand are wrapped around it, squeezing and sliding until he’s pressing back so hard into her mouth she’s sure it’s going to bruise, and <em> his </em> hand has slipped to her vulva, and then all she can feel is his tongue and his lips and his fucking <em> fingers </em> pressing inside, against the front side of her vag in a spot that he has no right to know about and she’s sobbing into his mouth, nowhere near orgasm but suffering from some kind of deep swelling within that makes her want to crawl closer, feel his skin on hers, press harder, dig her fingers into the parts of him that aren’t soft at all.</p><p>He makes a noise, something between a gasp and a sob, and the weight of the sheer projection she gets from him makes her wrench back in horror. Shame, disgust… something else she can’t pin down that feels like hunger but she can’t reconcile it with everything else.</p><p>Ahsoka pushes away, and lurches back on her heels against the partition.</p><p>“Shit, I…”</p><p>“No, Don’t--” he gasps. Hes breathing hard, and his eyes are squeezed closed.</p><p>“No this is... I--” Her head is spinning and her skin feels like it’s stretched too tight everywhere. She pushes off the floor and stumbles toward the door.</p><p>“Ahsoka, wait.”</p><p>She’s opening the door  and then slamming it, the racket echoes. The light of the corridor is dim, the brightness reflecting the very early morning planetside chrono. She leans against the wall, trying to catch her breath.</p><p>The door opens, and suddenly her vision is filled with six feet of gorgeous human male, face flushed with a light sheen of sweat, and pupils blown wide. She gulps,and runs her eyes down his body.</p><p>His blacks are zipped back up, his dick tucked away safely where she won’t be able to molest it again. He hasn’t put the cod back on, though, and there’s still a long profile pointing toward his right hip. He slides his hand against her cheek until his pinkie is brushing her headtail and his thumb just below her eye. She closes her eyes. “That was…” She sighs instead of finishing the sentence.</p><p>“Yeah, I know.”</p><p>He knows. He knows she took advantage of him, that she did something so wrong and disgusting that she should be behind a rayshield, but his forehead is pressing on hers and she’s so goddamn confused. “Look, I’m really drunk right now and that wasn’t... It wasn't me,” she says.</p><p>And that’s it. Like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over her head, his warm hands and skin are gone, and he’s stepped back.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I’m... “ He runs a hand over his scalp. “I’m gonna go to bed.”</p><p>He doesn’t wait for a reply.</p><p>And the next morning she’s standing in a briefing room talking about Zygerria, with Rex acting like nothing ever happened.</p><p>Who knows, maybe it didn’t. She was hammered. She probably fell asleep on the vacc tube and dreamed the whole thing.</p><p>It was so vivid though. She can still feel his hands on her lek, and buried between her legs. The hard warm stupidly soft skin of his cock under the pads of her fingers.</p><p>Yeah, booze doesn’t work like that.</p>
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